ELENA'S POINT OF VIEW
As I stepped out of Alexander's office, my heart raced wildly, pounding against my ribcage like a caged animal desperate for freedom. The elevator closed around me, its metal walls closing in as my reflection stared back, a ghostly figure, pale, terrified, and confused.
"What have I gotten myself into?" I muttered to the mirrored doors, my voice tiny in the vast emptiness of the elevator.
When the doors finally slid open, a rush of cold air hit me like a splash of cold water. I stumbled into the lobby, gripping the black card in my hand like a lifeline. It felt foreign, a key to a world I barely understood, one that belonged to someone powerful, someone terrifying.
Outside, life pulsed on. Laughter echoed from sidewalk cafes, cars whizzed past in a blur, and the world appeared so beautifully normal. But not me. I was tangled in a contract I struggled to comprehend and tethered to a man whose mere gaze sent shivers down my spine.
I sought refuge in a chic boutique I adored, the door chiming softly as I entered. The bright lights dazzled me, illuminating rows of pristine designer clothes, so shiny and immaculate, each a stark contrast to the detergent-stained uniform I was accustomed to.
The women at the counter turned to me in unison, their expressions shifting from curiosity to outright disdain.
"We already have cleaners," one remarked sharply, her tone dripping with disdain.
My cheeks burned in humiliation. "I'm not here to clean. I want to buy something," I insisted, struggling to keep my voice steady.
Her laughter rang out, cutting through me like a knife. "With what? Your bucket and broom?"
The other woman cackled behind her hand, their mockery slicing deep into my resolve. But I forced myself to stay calm; I'd weathered worse storms before.
"Show me your clothes," I said, a quiet determination rising up within me. "I'll choose something."
With a smirk, the first woman gestured for me to follow. "Fine. Let's see what ma'am wants to buy."
Every step felt like a battle as she interrupted my exploration, snapping commands like a drill sergeant. "Don't touch! We don't want stains from cheap hands."
My chest tightened with each reprimand, and I instinctively pulled my hands back. But then, at the end of the rack, I spotted it, a simple cream dress adorned with delicate lace around the sleeves. It whispered of hope, of something beautiful and pure.
"I'll take this one," I said softly, almost to myself.
She blinked in surprise, then her smile twisted into something cruel. "Good choice. That one is ten thousand dollars."
"Ten thousand?" I gasped, my eyes widening in disbelief.
"That's how real boutiques operate, darling. Still want it?"
Alexander's voice echoed in my mind, urging me: Get something expensive.
"Yes," I replied, my voice firmer than before. "I'll take it."
Her laughter erupted, a sound filled with scorn. "This should be good."
I handed her the black card, and her expression changed in an instant, as if I'd slapped her. She snatched it from me as if it were a venomous snake. "Where did you get this?"
"It was given to me," I replied, my pulse quickening.
"You? A black card?" She looked at me like I was a fool. "You must think we're stupid."
"Give that back!" Panic surged through me as I felt my heart drop. "Please, just take the money and return the card."
"Oh, you're good," she sneered. "Stealing a card like this? You're finished."
"I didn't steal it!" I pleaded.
Ignoring me, she reached for her phone. "Hello, police? Yes. I have a thief here."
My stomach churned as heads turned, curious gazes boring into me. Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes.
"You're calling the police?" I whispered, disbelief flooding my voice.
"Exactly," she said triumphantly. "They'll love meeting a cleaner trying to scam a designer store."
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to breathe. "You don't know who you're dealing with."
"Oh?" She mocked, raising an eyebrow. "Who? Your mop?"
I clenched my trembling hands into fists. "Fine. I'll call him myself."
Laughter erupted again as I dialed Henry, my hands shaking as I recounted the events.
"Stay calm," he urged. "I'm on my way."
What felt like hours passed in mere minutes before the door swung open, and two police officers stepped inside.
"Who reported a stolen card?" one inquired, scanning the room.
"She did," the boutique worker chirped, pointing at me with glee. "She tried to use this." She brandished the black card like a trophy.
The officer studied it, and his expression shifted instantly.
"This card is registered to…Alexander Reyes?"
The atmosphere thickened, and I froze, my pulse thundering in my ears.
"I didn't steal it," I stammered, my voice trembling. "He gave it to me."
"Tell that to the station," the officer said, reaching for my wrist.
Before he could touch me, the boutique doors swung open once more, and the world went eerily quiet.
Alexander Reyes strode in, exuding an aura of cold, controlled power that cast a hush over the room.
His gaze locked onto mine, and I could feel the heat of my earlier tears still fresh on my cheeks. Something dark flickered behind his eyes as he approached.
Then, in a voice that carried authority, he made the room tremble with his words, "Who made my wife cry?"
Everything shattered into silence.
The officer's hand dropped, and the boutique worker recoiled as if struck.
"What?" she whispered, disbelief etching her face.
"Yes. My wife," Alexander repeated, his tone firm yet gently possessive.
Shock rippled through the room, squeezing the air out of it.
His gaze turned to the woman as he took a step closer. "How did you get my black card?"
"Sir, I…I thought she stole it, I didn't know she was your wife," she stammered, her bravado evaporating.
"Didn't know?" His voice was low, yet sharp as a knife. "But you knew how to humiliate her."
"No, I…"
"I remember giving her that card," he stated, a quiet fury simmering beneath the surface. "I don't remember giving it to you."
The officer swallowed hard. "Mr. Reyes, we didn't realize…"
"You already displayed your incompetence," he replied, icy calm. "Enough."
He extended his hand. "Give me the card."
With trembling fingers, the woman dropped it into his palm, her fear palpable.
Turning to me, his voice softened. "Pay for the dress."
My fingers shook as I completed the transaction, the weight of the moment bearing down on me.
Alexander took my hand, leading me away from the bustling boutique, and the air around us hung thick with tension. No one dared to move as we made our escape.
At the door, he hesitated, casting a sharp glance over his shoulder at the officers waiting behind us.
"You know what to do," he commanded, his voice steady.
"Yes, sir," one of them replied, a hint of dread in his tone.
The moment we stepped outside, the officers pivoted, their attention honing in on the boutique worker.
"You're coming with us," one barked, a menacing edge in his voice.
"What? No." she protested, her eyes wide with shock.
"Next time, stay out of it. You almost cost us our jobs," he snapped back.
With that, the door swung shut behind them, the sound swallowing the last remnants of the store's chatter, plunging us into an uneasy silence.
A driver emerged from the shadows, stepping forward to open the car door. I slipped into the backseat, the soft leather cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the heat of the moment we had just left behind.
Alex followed my lead, a brooding silence enveloping us as the door clicked shut. The car glided away from the boutique, leaving the city's chaos behind.
I leaned into the window, the cool glass a welcome relief, clutching the small shopping bag in my lap as if it were a lifeline.
The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating, until he finally broke it.
"I told you to buy a dress," he said quietly, his gaze fixed on the passing streets, avoiding mine. "Not start a scene."
His voice came out barely above a whisper, calm yet tinged with a disappointment that felt sharper than any shout could evoke.
"I didn't start anything," I forced out, but my words felt fragile, like glass on the brink of shattering.
An uncomfortable silence settled between us, thick and heavy.
Summoning what little courage I had left, I tried again, my tone more resolute this time. "They thought I stole it. I tried to explain."
But still, nothing.
He kept his gaze fixed out the window, lost in the shimmering city lights, as if they were more important than anything I might say.
My throat tightened, a wave of heat flooding my eyes. I bit my lip, desperate to hold back the turmoil inside, but betrayal came in the form of warm tears that flowed unbidden down my cheeks, one after another.
I didn't bother to wipe them away.
Why should I? He didn't care.
Frozen in place, I stared at my trembling hands, a hollow ache swelling in my chest, a profound emptiness I couldn't shake.
Silence enveloped me, draining the last remnants of strength from my voice, swallowed by the weight of that moment.
And Alex? He never even looked my way.